Shuddering moans continued to run up the blond's throat, each phallic thrust by the strange creature behind her sending her into jostling levels of pleasure. Her body was numb to all but the most erotic feelings, her face a rosy pink as she was fucked. Diana's naked breast (only her left one was bare, the other still held firm in the confines of her shirt) jiggled and bounced with each thrust, an ecstatic tentacle groping the tit flesh and carefully tickling her nipples every other moment. Diana still couldn't move her hands and she was starting to lose the will to do so.

This all started when a strange woman-like creature pulled her into the closet, beginning a seductive molestation that lead to Diana's cunt being fucked by a phallus-like tentacle and her breast massaged by a much smaller and more agile tentacle. The woman hadn't gotten very far, but Diana's undergarments were already gone, all that was left was half of her top and her skirt, which served no purpose now but to hide Diana's eyes from the act happening in her groin.

Diana's voice was weak and interrupted by moans very regularly. She was slowly giving in, warmth spreading through her body at an even higher rate. "Please.. Ngh! Please, let m-- Gaah! Me go! Ngggh!" Diana could practically feel her heart beating in her chest and would normally have placed her hand over it to calm herself. But her limbs were all being held in place by very assertive tentacles.

What rotten luck that Diana's absence today had gained her so much attention. Well aware of the catty interactions of her fellow students Diana had usually managed to be ignored in the past, even on the rare occasions she was late. She simply took no part in trading rumors, and kept her eyes fixed on the teacher, so she had not been an amusing target for anybody. Just another pretty girl among a thousand. Yet today glances shot all around her, piercing her briefly or sweeping past as if the other girls were only searching for something. Practiced ploys that did nothing to deceive Diana. She'd suffered from gossip in her last school. Even the teacher grinned, stiff paintbrush of a mustache separating into bristles like a stretched comb. Probably he was just imagining Diana masturbating in front of him. He'd relished making lascivious comments about her since she'd succumbed to his advances.

The atmosphere of jolly malevolence at least was something Diana was familiar with. The jeering faces were temporary, and the hurt they inflicted spread out thin if she suppressed it, so that she felt sore instead of like crying. How her body felt, that was different, something she had no weapons against. Her body had been groped and penetrated, and she'd learned to adapt, but this last attack had left her soiled in such a pernicious way. That she-being had plumed her completely, threaded her like a bead on a string. She'd been polluted, plumped with white filth, making her feel so lewd, like her cunny hadn't been so thoroughly satisfied violated at all, making her flesh as sensitive as a blister. Why had that devious, malicious woman done this to her? Why did this delicious foulness make her so hungry... Diana startled. She meant sick, didn't she? She was thinking of the word sick, not...she realized suddenly she'd been daydreaming. The clock read half an hour into class. Did fifteen minutes just pass? As Diana's hazy thoughts gained coherence she noticed her fingers still between her legs, as if resting in her lap, but her fingernail grazed her clit in spurious twitches. Creamy slime glazed her middle finger up to the first knuckle. Before her panic could mount she spied a small folded note on her desk. The student in front of her was glancing backward; not enough for Diana to see her face. A pretty girl, dainty and lithe, with glimmering blond hair locked into a mauve lacquered barrette on one side. Unfolding the note carefully, Diana read a lacy cursive script:

You washed up awfully quickly Diana.
You're so brave for going to class.